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Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was well-liked in the army. He had a cheery disposition, a wife and daughter he loved more than anything else (though his constant bragging about his family irritated many) and always remembered people’s birthdays. That fact had been greatly appreciated in Ishval, a kind first lieutenant telling you ‘Happy Birthday!’ brought some form of normality to the war, as they waited to return home. Behind his goofy demeanour, he hid a sharp intellect and was often three steps ahead. Unfortunately for him, that is rather dangerous when your enemy is ahead four. I closed the file containing his photo and description, put it down on the oak table beside me, and regarded the computer monitor showing the location of the Lieutenant Colonel in his office. I put on the headphones and turned the sound to his bug.“… and the west have been having their fair share of riots and border skirmishes lately. Who knows, this could be the start of a revolution.” The sound quality was not ideal, but good enough. The sound of something slammed down upon a desk and the scraping of a chair, followed by footsteps. I could pick up a muffled question“The archive. I want to check some old files.” That must have been the Lt. Colonel. And so, he had sealed his fate. I sent a message to Invidia that he was close to the truth as I rose from the chair and rushed out the room and up the stairs, towards the archive where the Lieutenant Colonel would be. “… uprisings all over. Humans are the ingredient for the Philosopher’s stone, the things we did in Ishval, what does it all mean? Think Maes, think. Those fellows Elric met at the fifth lab, what role do they play?” The door to the archive was open, allowing anyone to hear the poor man’s muttering.“What the hell? who came up with this? I’ve got to tell the Major and the…” the slam of the door behind me interrupted him.“A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Though I should rather say farewell.” The man turned to stare at me with widened eyes, then backed away, breath quickening. One step. Two steps. I followed.“Cool tattoo you’ve got there” An interesting choice of last words.“I am terribly sorry about this, but you’ve learned too much, Lieutenant Colonel.” I raised my hand and extended my nails. At the same time, he ducked and launched a knife in my face, causing me to stagger back into a shelf. The thud of a door opening, light spilling upon the floor, something heavy hitting the floor outside the room, slow steps, a thud and a muttered ‘damn it’ reached my senses. With slow movements I lifted my hand towards my face and pulled out the throwing knife from my brain, raising my head. ‘Damn it’? that was what I was going to say. And here we’d thought that he was the deskwork type. Seemed his arm was good for more than pushing papers. Perhaps he might be skilled enough to survive us. Stop trying to make yourself feel better. The red crackles heralded the fact that my brain and skin were knotting themselves together and I stepped from the shelf. I could pursue, the trail of blood would be easy to follow, but it would lead to more questions if anyone saw. Better to retreat. “Are you listening, Felicity?” No reply. I don’t know why I was talking to her, she was long dead. Perhaps the habit had been too deeply ingrained in me. Do horrible things at the bidding of the man who called himself my father, talk about it with Felicity, then rinse and repeat. Perhaps I was simply insane. Evil rather. You know that.“Another man is dead today. Maes Hughes was his name. You would have liked him, I think. Many did. And then we killed him. Just like the others. I’m rambling again, am I not?” I said to the darkness. A chuckle escaped my throat.“Lu?” Gula waddled towards me on his stubby legs, carrying a flashlight.“Hey Gula. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Gula was four now, thirteen years younger than me.“Can’t sleep. They keep screaming.” His voice was a wince. I knew exactly what he was talking about. I never slept, whenever I tried the screams of the stone would keep me awake. The only way to sleep was to drink a bottle of methanol or similar, which instead knocked me into a coma.“Who were you talking to?”“Felicity. Do you remember her?” He nodded, though he had been but two the last time he saw her. Perhaps we homunculi have better memories. More likely, he simply thought he remembered Felicity. It did not matter, either way, Felicity was dead and buried. It’s your fault, you know. It’s just like you to ignore what you’ve done. How many would be alive if it were not for you? I stood up in the darkened room and walked to the shelf. A syringe lay there and besides stood a bottle of heroin. I filled the syringe with the liquid, then injected it into my arm.“Lu? What is that?” Gula was behind me.“Nothing of consequence to you. Go back to bed now, you need to sleep.” I turned towards him with my kindest smile. He nodded and ran off, leaving me alone. I walked back to where I had been seated and laid down on the floor. The amount of heroin would not be enough to render me completely disconnected from the world around me, it would simply make it a bit more bearable. In this state an idea struck me; what if I left this place? Could I do that? “You’re pathetic, you know.” The voice and cadence of Invidia were well recognisable. I opened my eyes to see them standing over me, hands clasped on their back.“Is he dead?”“Who?”“The Lieutenant Colonel. He who came too close to the truth and was to be cast down. Maes Hughes.” Every once in a while, poetic language would fill my brain. Mostly when drowned in substance; sobriety made me more sensible. The smile upon Invidia’s face seemed to split it into two; I knew the answer before they spoke.“He is. It was amazing! Humans are such stupid fools! They risk their lives over the most pointless things! Makes me laugh.” It did not make me laugh. From what I had seen of us homunculi, we were no better. A collection of pitiable weapons, serving the whims of the man who dared call himself our father. That opinion I kept unspoken.“What were his last words?” I don’t know why I needed to know the last words of those whose lives I took; perhaps it was to grieve them properly. A weapon who grieves. Who ever heard of such silliness?“What?”“His last words. What were they?”“Um, I don’t know. Some apology to his family, I think. Why’d you care anyway?”“He deserves to be remembered. We killed him, and so we must honour him.” I owed them that much, at least. The smile fell from Invidia’s face.“He’ll be honoured and remembered by his family. We don’t need to honour him as well.”“Perhaps you do not. Yet the fact remains that I need to honour him. What were his last words?”“Does it matter? He’s dead. Soon to be buried. Just forget it.” Were they hurt? Perhaps they considered me a pathetic fool. Perhaps I was. Nevertheless, the fact remained; I needed to know the Lieutenant Colonel’s last words.“It matters to me. Mayhap not to you; you find humans lowly creatures, good for nothing more than amusement. To me, we are naught but humans made weaponry.”“Fine. ‘Elicia, Gracia, I’m sorry. I said I’d be home early’. Happy now?” Their face was contorted in disgusted rage.“Thank you, Invidia.” They would never forgive my treachery. I rose to my feet, standing a good head taller than them, then turned and left.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I wanted to run, quick as I could, but what good would that do? The man who called himself my father would simply make it worse. Thus, I simply marched beside Major Kimblee, stalwart as an inmate on death row, never mind that I was the executioner. The major’s face bore his usual smile. A part of me wished to understand him better, understand what made him so callous. He was human, yet it seemed I had more humanity. Then he spoke.“Always look those you kill in the eye, miss Alighieri. Remember them well.” I simply nodded and looked down upon the grey stone floor. Too soon we arrived at the end of the corridor where Kimblee turned and punched the code into the keypad, opening the small cell. In the bloodstained room sat a broken man who shied away from the light and us.“Please, I’ve told you everything, I did all you asked, don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, please!" His voice broke into sobs.“You need not fear me, Mr Hendrickson. Miss Alighieri here will do the honours.” The man’s reddened eyes snapped to my face as I stiffened my back. I felt Major Kimblee’s hand upon my shoulder.“You can’t be serious. She’s a child. You’re gonna make children do your dirty work now?” The whisper carried a mixture of horror and anger. Did he pity me? He couldn’t, I was his executioner. What could his goodness hope to bring? I took a step forward, Kimblee following.“Any l-last words? I m-might not be able to bring them to your f-family, but I’ll remember them. I swear I will” My voice was weak, yet I forced myself to stare upon his down-cast visage, filled with something I could not name. He clasped his hand, as if in prayer.“Tell them, tell my wife and daughter that I love them. I’ll be waiting for them in the next world. If you meet them, tell them to be strong. Oh, dearest God, watch over my daughter.” He paused, then raised his head to look at me. “And kid, get away from this place. They’ll eat your heart.” My body seemed frozen by the man’s advice. He was about to be executed and took the time to give a stranger advice. I raised my hand, fingers pointed towards him. It would be kinder for him to die by my hand than by the hand of the Crimson Lotus Alchemist.“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, extending the nail of my index finger towards him. A meter left. He was weeping. Half a meter. Were there tears running down my cheeks too?“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, forgive me, I'm sorry, I-I'm s-sorry…” The mantra did nothing to prevent the fact that my nail struck through his chest. There was so much blood, we had to stop it, if we were quick, we could stop the bleeding and save him, but we had to act now. I dashed forward, only to be stopped by an arm. Of course. The man had to die, his fate had been sealed before the Crimson Lotus Alchemist and I even entered the room, it had been sealed when the president and the man who called himself my father had discovered his treachery.“Shh, you did good Luxuria. Very good,” Kimblee whispered in my ear. I had not noticed him kneeling behind me. He placed his hand upon my arm, and I shortened my nail and let the arm slump to my side. Mr Hendrickson lay dead upon the floor. With a tug, Kimblee turned me around and I buried my face in his navy-blue uniform.“Why?” My question was barely audible.“Why what?”“Why did Mr Hendrickson have to die?“In all honesty, he did not. Had he been a bit luckier, a bit less trusting, even subtler, he might well have made it. But he was not, and so the president and your father commanded his death. That is the way of the world.” An unlucky accident, in other words. He stroked my hair, then let go of me and rose.“Come now, miss Alighieri. Your father will be waiting.” I dried my tears, raised my head, stood up straight and walked with small steps out of the room. The Crimson Lotus Alchemist walked beside me. Would a cleaning crew take care of Mr Hendrickson’s corpse? I hoped that he would have a proper burial, he deserved that much, at least. The corridor was empty except for a lone guard, in the opposite end. I did not look at them, instead staring at the countless doors. Behind all those doors were other ill-fated souls. Might any one of them escape? We were underground, guards were posted in the halls and the entire complex was in the middle of Central. But if a skilled enough alchemist had been caught, they could perhaps tear the place to pieces. I would like to see that. My room was dark, lit only by the small desktop lamp. I turned the page of the book I was reading, Barrett’s Annotated History of Alchemy, trying to concentrate. Why did you kill him? A two-page illustration depicting the destruction of Xerxes stared back at me, intricate in its grisly horror. I shut the book closed. It was more than a century old and ill worn. The author had been a proper mystic, half the book seemed little more than exaggerated baloney, but it made for an entertaining read. Or it would have, had Mr Hendrickson’s face not stared at me whenever I closed my eyes. He didn’t deserve to die. Yet the man was dead; what could I have done? Coward.“Luxuria? You okay?” Mother was standing in the door, wearing a long grey dress and a sad smile.“I… no… I’m not. Why did he have to die?” Tears were spilling out my eyes again. She walked forward, knelt before me and placed a hand upon my shoulder. Softness. You don’t deserve softness.“Because the man who calls himself your father said so. Because he betrayed him. It’s not fair, nor just. Sometimes the world is cruel like that. Oftentimes. I wish that you were not part of it.” She looked forlorn as she spoke. With kind and slow movements, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a napkin which she used to dry my tears. Then she rose to her feet.“Would you like a snack, dear?” I nodded, and left my seat, following her into the darkened hallway. Mother seemed horribly out of place here, she seemed to belong in melancholy ruins, not art deco hallways. When we reached the kitchen, I took a seat at the grand table. Mother opened the cupboards, taking a pair of small plates and putting two pieces of bread in the beat-up old toaster, humming an old song.“Mother, how do you do it?”“Do what, Lu?”“Stay sane. Keep functioning. How?”“Wine, Lu dear. Hurts much less then.” She looked so sad when she said that, I knew not why. Then her head snapped towards me, same tortured mien“Would you like some? God knows you’re far too young, but well, you’re too young to kill as well.” I nodded my head slowly. It might be stupid, but I didn’t want to see Mr Hendrickson’s face constantly. I didn’t want to mull over his death on and on and on. You flee your own conscience? A wine-glass was placed in front of me as mother sat down opposite me, her own glass in hand.“Cheers.” She did not smile. I lifted the glass to my lips and tasted the alcohol. The liquid was bitter and tangy. A grimace spread upon my face. But I wanted some kind of numbness, a way to dull Mr Hendrickson’s face, so I drank it. Was it tears that glistened in mother’s eyes? She rose from her seat, took my hand and gestured for me to get up.“Come now, let’s get you to bed. You should sleep.” Maybe I would be able to. Perhaps the wine would dull the screams. And so, I rose from the table and walked with mother, the two pieces of bread forgotten in the toaster.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
I stared at the list. Money, food, drugs, clothes, fake driver’s licences (preferably a couple of different identities), fake passports (preferably with identities matching the fake driver’s licences), a credit card to withdraw money from, a stone, maybe a couple of my notebooks along with a pen, and two bags, one for money and one for the rest of the packing. It would have to be enough. Turning around I looked at my oaken bookcase to get my notebooks, lodged between Jane Eyre and Moby Dick; classical teenage girl reading. A teenage girl, huh? You’re just a monster, face it. I picked them out in their worn black leather covers. My eight years of research had yielded more notes, of course, but the results were all condensed in these two notebooks. I flipped through the older one, looking at the messy handwriting and diagrams, then put them back. I’d fetch two duffel bags, pack what I needed, hide it, and at night, when most of us were asleep, I’d get Gula and leave. I had already planned the route: leap out the window, run to the car, get in, then drive away. There was a guard, of course, but I could simply sneak past them, or, if necessary, kill them. What difference would one more life make? Quite a lot for the guard’s family. The house was located downtown, in the posh area. It was huge, with a large garden and a fenced iron gate. “May I ask what you are doing?” The guard’s tone was light, but the meaning was clear.“Can I eat him?” Gula’s tone was like a kid asking their mum if they could have ice cream. From his point of view, that was what the request was. I hushed him and extended my nail to point it at the guard’s throat. Bet you think you’re so merciful. He gulped. I opened the gate with my free hand and stepped out, Gula following and clutching my coat. I kept the tip of my nail upon the guard’s throat and my gaze upon his eyes.“If you make so much as a peep, I’ll kill you. Go back around the house. Do not alert anyone until I am gone. Tell them that you only heard the car starting. Understood?” The guard nodded. I lowered my hand, opened the door to the black car, let in Gula, dumped the bag, took a seat behind the wheel and started it, never letting the guard out of my sight. With the roar of the engine, we were off. I smiled in the dim light. Why won’t you face your sins? Dawn broke as we reached Ayden. Warm reds spread through the sky, the sun behind us. It was beautiful, in contrast to the city we reached. Concrete houses in dirty yellows spread out, in desperate need of cleaning. The road was okay, but the road signs were covered in dirt. It didn’t matter, we were only here to sell the car and then leave, not to admire the countryside. We drove through the city centrum, passed buildings in even bigger need of cleaning and some in desperate need of renovating. One looked as if a gust of wind might blow it to pieces. There were no cities like this in Creta or Aurego, I knew. That’s partially your fault, isn’t it? After a while driving through the part that passed as the downtown, we arrived at a rundown car dealership. I pulled up, smiled at Gula, who had by some miracle managed to fall asleep, and exited the car. The owner came out to greet us.“Good day,” said I, then continued, “I am looking to trade in this car. May I see your assortment?” The man greeted us, then looked at the car. His eyes widened just a little and I could practically see the cogwheels in his head turn. The car was quite a catch.“Of course, you may.” His smile was a faked charitable one. I gave him one in return, liar, liar pants on fire, then followed the owner to his collection of different cars. “You must have a children’s car seat for your son, miss. It’s on the house. I insist.” The owner made certain to exude an air of charity, attempting to make certain that I had a good impression of how kind he had been. It might have succeeded if I hadn’t known the car I was trading in was worth more than triple the car I traded it for. It didn’t matter, the black car wasn’t mine, despite the documentation I showed him that “proved” it belonged to “me”, Miss Lucy Johnson, of 21 years. I smiled.“Thank you, sir. You are very kind”“Think nothing of it, miss. I have a daughter of your age.” So, what will happen when your father’s goons come here to track the car? Will his daughter die? I thanked him one last time, packed in the new car, strapped in Gula, still asleep and now drooling, then took a seat behind the wheel. With a wave, I drove off. I turned on the radio, letting the sweet voice of the newscaster fill the car. I was headed south, for the city of Dublith. I’d make a stop along the way to change the colour of the car’s lacquer from the silver it was now to a pale blue, and to change the number plate. Highly illegal, of course, but practically the least on my list of crimes. How does it feel to be a monster? To have the blood soak your hands? I shook off the voice recounting my moral failures and focused on the road ahead of me. I wanted to take a shot to numb myself, but getting arrested less than a day after fleeing for driving under the influence was not very appealing. Withdrawal would not kick in until another six hours or so.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
From 10 pm to 6 am the house was silent on Father’s orders. Even though none of us homunculi needed to sleep, he still did. So, we had to be silent or out of the house. I was in the tunnels, editing together a vlog. It wouldn’t be public, it left too many clues or some shit, but it was kind of fun. Almost as fun as killing and Lu said I couldn’t just kill people willy-nilly. She was a bit of a bitch in that way, cause she killed whomever she wanted. I chewed on the cherry candy stick. It was 4:32. I closed the computer with a huff and picked up the thick as fuck bunt of papers that Lu had given me, detailing the process of creating human-animal chimaeras. I opened it to the second page, saw that it was titled “Abstract”, then closed it. Lu only ever wrote scientific papers, and they were fucking mind-numbingly dry. Couldn’t she spice it up a little? Maybe write one on a drug trip? But no, Lu always presented herself as prim and proper. Sure, old Sups did that as well, but he was, like, forty. Lu was seventeen. I opened and closed the computer again, then stood up and stretched a bit. Then, I sat down, sighed, pulled out my phone, and sent a text to Lu:
“bored as fuck, get to the tunnels.” Then I opened fucking crossy roads.
It was 5:03, Lu hadn’t answered, and I’d gotten tired of waiting. Grunting, I stood, picked up my stuff and headed toward the mansion and Lu’s room. I walked through the dark grey tunnels, Lu’s alchemical laboratory, to the mansion's cellar, up the three flights of stairs and to the door of Lu’s room. It was locked. I knocked and when no reply came, I decided ‘fuck it’ and broke it open. Lu wasn’t there. Her dark blue (indigo, she said was the proper term) curtains fluttered in the wind. Outside the sun was rising. I turned and went to Gula’s room.
Neither Lu nor Gula was in Gula’s room. Where the fuck were they? Maybe in the kitchen? I turned as Ira appeared in the hallway, with her standard ‘don’t try me or I’ll fucking break your neck,’ setting.
“You seen Lu, shorts?” Ira didn’t hate being called short as much as the pipsqueak, but it was hilarious to see her jaw clench and unclench.
“Don’t fuck with me. And no, I haven’t seen the bitch. I think she left.” Left? Lu couldn’t have fucking left us too, could she? What the everloving fuck? Ira must have seen my confusion because she continued:
“Car’s gone. Who else would have taken the car early as fuck in the morning? The fucker probably took Gula and fucked off.”
“That traitorous fucking bitch! Fucking off like that! I’ll…” I lost my trail. How could Lu just fucking abandon us?
“Why so surprised? She’s a lying fucking whore,
of course,
she fucking left us at the earliest goddamned opportunity.” Ira was foaming at the mouth.
“Children, children. The hour is early. Why are you screaming?” Father appeared from his room, wearing his white morning robe. Fuck. I straightened my back.
“Luxuria has left. She took Gula and the car,” I said, looking him in the eye. His eyes narrowed.
“So, she too has betrayed me.” He paused. “Ira, you are from now on in charge of her research. Speak to her associates and get up to speed.” Ira was being put in charge of Lu’s research!? How was that reasonable? I knew it far better!
“Swallow your anger, Invidia. It is unbecoming. You are to find where Luxuria has disappeared to. Notify Superbia of this disturbance. Now, be silent.” Ira and I nodded at the dismissal, and I began the search to figure out what Lu had taken with her.
Four hours later I had managed to determine that Lu had taken one credit card, two philosopher’s stones, her most detailed notebooks, a bunch of meat and vegetables, clothes, papers for forged identities, and her stash of drugs. She had not taken her phone, it lay on her desk, with the notification ‘One unread message from Alighieri, In.’
Of course,
I was stored like that in her contact list, I’d had her stored as ‘big titty murderer,’ but now I had changed it to ‘traitor bitch’. I had tried to open her phone without success. She seemed to have judged opening the phone with fingerprint scans stupid, which I found phenomenally rude. What was the point of memorizing your siblings’ fingerprints if you couldn’t use them to hack into their phones? Thanks to the search I knew when the traitor bitch had left because the guard had heard a car drive off at 1 am. Now I was off to the computer room to try to track her down.
The credit card didn’t help much. At 1:36 am at an ATM in the northern outskirts of Central, hundred million cenz was withdrawn. That simply confirmed what we already knew, Lu had turned traitor and fucked off to never return. Tracking the car gave more information, it had been spotted by CCTV in Vectora, in the north, at 3:43. At 4:12 a car of the same model but different license plate had been spotted heading south in Iggmoy, roughly 20 km south-east of Vectora. It was probably a different car, but Lu did know alchemy, and changing a license plate would be a piece of cake. I wasn’t able to find any other possible footage of the car, so now she could be anywhere in the country. Unless she was stopping for her drugs, she wasn’t stupid enough to drive high. That meant she’d probably have to stop every once in a while, say ten hours or so. I couldn’t be certain, so it would be best to assume she did not. I didn’t get any records for any of her aliases, which meant she probably hadn’t left the country, but she could have forged a new one. The search was a fucking failure. I opened email and began typing one to Sups’ private account containing a sum up of the situation with possible clues. He was down south, attending the yearly review of State Alchemists’ research. Thank fuck I didn’t have to do that.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sunrise was beautiful. Even though I could not see the rising disk for the trees, the dappled light spilt upon the car and the ground, painting it in warm pinks and oranges. The sky was changing, slowly, from a deep indigo bedazzled with stars and a lone moon, via a lavender with pink clouds, to the blue most commonly found. I would like to stay in this clearing, warm and fuzzy, and watch the sky and the trees for hours. (How long had I been here?) A bird trilled and sang, I could not tell what kind. Others joined in, lending their chirps to the canto. I too, joined, whistling. I was under no illusion of having skill, but did that really matter? The birds themselves surely didn’t care about pitch our quality, they simply sang. I giggled and yawned. Drowsiness always accompanied me at these times. It was not the tiredness of work, but a nice and fuzzy feeling of curling up and drowsing a bit. Something poked me in the cheek.
“Lu?” Oh. It was Gula. I turned toward his chubby face. He was picking his nose again.
“What did I tell you about picking your nose, Gula?” The words formed slowly, and it felt like I was speaking through water. Gula removed the finger from his nose and wiped it on his orange shirt. I ruffled his short golden locks, getting a smile in return. Could this be my life from now on? Staying in a sunrise clearing, with little Gula to keep me company? But this wasn't enough. This place was lovely, but I wanted more. All of Mr Alighieri's children have a vice for which we are named, and this is mine: I will never be content. I have to see the world, smell the air, feel the breeze, shiver from cold, hear the songs of distant lands. I cannot ever be satisfied. The blue lacquer of the car shone in the early morning light. I had to clear my mind and get going. I didn't want to. With languorous movements, I dug in my purse and retrieved a syringe and the bottle of naloxone. Slowly, I injected the fluid in my vein.
”And now, the weather,” said the radio host. I switched channels and a classical piece filled the car. The highway was surprisingly empty. It was 9:30 on a Thursday morning, not quite rush hour certainly, but more cars ought to be around. Or maybe I was too used to the traffic in central. A yellow car drove past us with their windows open and blasting an Auregan song. They looked to be a bunch of teenagers, wearing big summer hats and flowing summer clothes. It seems they found the concept of adapting your wardrobe to the seasons unnecessary. Not that I could be much of a judge, I had worn a black sleeveless dress with long gloves almost every day, regardless of the weather. Had being the operative word, for now, I could not let anyone see the ouroboros upon my chest.
“Where are we going, Lu?” Gula's voice was sweet and soft. It was the third time he asked.
“Dublith” We would not stay in Dublith longer than necessary, but it was a good place to lay low.
“When will we go back home?” Sweet little Gula. He hadn't realised that we weren't returning home.
“We won't. We'll make our own home, somewhere else.”
“But I like home! I wanna go home! Home's nice.” Gula pouted. I patted his head.
“Home is filled with bad people. We're making our own home, with good people.”
Good people and you
. I hoped he'd understand.
My stomach was cramping, which meant withdrawal had begun to set in. I'd need to pull over soon and take a shot. Only a little, enough to chase away the withdrawal, but not enough to render me completely stupid.
You, coward who flees her morals, why do you run?
Beside me, Gula was sleeping fitfully. Nightmares from the stone.
Those are your fault you know.
When a small path diverged from the highway I took it and followed it for a while before coming to a stop. Should I wake Gula? The nightmare seemed horrible, but sleep would only ever get harder for him. Gently, I took his hand in mine.
Isn't touching people when they sleep something your father does?
I recoiled, drew my hand to my chest.
“It's okay,” I told him, keeping my voice soft.
Liar. It will only get worse.
That seemed to calm him. Maybe I should learn how to sing, calm him that way.
Any calm you will ever offer will be false.
I pulled the bottle of heroin from my purse, took the syringe, filled it halfway and injected the liquid into my arm. Deep breaths. No need to worry.
Coward
. I let my head lull forward and closed my eyes, waited until the withdrawal subsided. I felt the gentle warmth spread through my body, though it was merely an illusion created by the heroin's effect on the brain.
“Are we there?” Oh, Gula had woken up.
“Not yet. This is only a little break. Do you want something to eat?” Gula nodded and smiled. He looked adorable. I wished I'd gotten him out of our former home sooner, wished I'd run as soon as possible. I patted his head, undid my seatbelt, opened the car door and stepped out. I grabbed the latch of the trunk and opened it. Inside, in a trash bag, lay a dead pig I had bought at a butcherer's shop. I cut a slice of meat weighing roughly two kilos with my nail. I did not need to worry about slicing bones. Gula could eat anything. I picked up the slice and closed the trunk. I walked back to the driver's seat, opened the door and sat down. Then I gave Gula the meat. His smile grew wide at the piece bigger than his head as he unhinged his jaw. I fastened my seatbelt. I could start the car, Gula would not choke but eating while driving was a bad habit. Besides, I should probably be a bit soberer. Ending up in a car accident, whilst not lethal, would be rather embarrassing.
“Oh, and another thing, Gula”
“What?” he asked between chewing.
“You will be named Georgie from now on. Well, you can choose another name later, but for now, you'll be Georgie and I'll be Lu. Do you think you can remember that?” He nodded.
We arrived in Dublith as the sun set. It was in better shape than Ayden, though its reputation was less than stellar. I would park the car in some back alley and grab the two bags, along with what was left of the pig, then go and get a proper meal at some diner. Hopefully, I might be able to find a bed and breakfast, I really did need a warm shower. The car would probably be stolen in less than an hour.
Getting someone else to dispose of it, huh?
As we came to an intersection I spotted him. It could have been a trick of my mind, but he looked like Ulchi. Carrying two bags of presumably groceries.
He was your fourth chimaera. To think, you have twisted ten people, deformed their bodies, turned them to beasts. And that's not to mention your other crimes. And now you run.
I shook my head, saw him chat with a young woman before heading down further down the street. I turned left. He didn't seem to have noticed me. We drove onwards until I spotted a back alley. I drove into it and parked the car.
“We've arrived, Georgie. Let's get going.” He nodded at me.
And he doesn't even know what a monster you are, what a monster you've turned him into.
I opened the car door, made my way to the passenger's door, opened it, and unclasped Gula's seatbelt. As he climbed out of the car I opened the trunk. I put on my coat in grey wool. I'd have preferred my black satin coat, with its fine fur lining around the neck, but it could have shown conspicuous, and so I had left it.
Concerned over your appearance. You really are a vain thing.
Then I hooked the strap of my duffle bag over my head and put on the backpack. I took the trash bag containing the pig and closed the trunk. I was about to simply close the car doors and leave with Gula, but Ulchi's earlier appearance made me pause. The chance of running into him again was small, and he was presumably the only one of the escapees in Dublith, but I should probably get some sort of disguise. I pulled out my notebook and sketched out a transmutation circle. I placed it upon the children's car seat and drew plastic from it to form rubber and fashion a hair tie. My hair was nearly greasy from not having showered in so long, but I pulled it up into a bun. Then, with a new transmutation circle, I fashioned a headband pull back my fringe. With one last transmutation circle, I made a rim for a pair of sunglasses and made the glass pieces themselves with glass skimmed from the car window. I surveyed myself in the side-view mirror. I had no makeup on, my hair was pulled back and I wore sunglasses. It would have to be enough. After making the final preparations I took Gula's hand and walked with him along the streets lit by the yellow glow of sodium fueled street lamps. It was not long before we found a joint pub, diner and inn called the Devil's Nest, advertising a tonights special of steak with fries and ratatouille.
“Would you like a steak, Georgie?”
“Mm-hmm,” he said with a smile. I too smiled as we stepped into the diner.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
”Tickets please.” The voice of the conductor rang clear over the constant mumble of different conversations. I showed her mine and Gula's tickets before she walked onwards, accompanied by the blips of her ticket scanner.”I'm ill,” Gula whined beside me. This was his first time on a train, and the motion sickness must have affected him. I could not help but be curious, being a homunculus ought hinder it, ought it not? I pulled out the chewing gums I'd packed just in case.”Here,” I said, ”This will help. Chew it, but do not swallow, and you'll feel better.” I leaned back into my seat and pulled out my laptop. I had been in mail contact with a man calling himself Father Cornello, the founder of the church of the sun god Leto. We'd already provided him a stone, but the man calling himself my father wanted more direct control of the situation. So here I and Gula were, on a train bound for a desert town. In truth, I did not mind getting out of the house every once in a while. I had brought with me a pair of Drachman classics I'd been meaning to read, and through the laptop I could direct the research team. Speaking of which, I had a paper on chimera for which an abstract was needed. I would later write a similar one on the topic of human animal chimera, but a paper on the underlying methods was good praxis. As Invidia reminded me on a weekly basis, I did not need to write it in the form of a scientific paper, yet I preffered a structure. That is in its essence, the pursuit of science, is it not? To bring order to a chaotic world and find the logical structure behind it? And the betterment of mankind? Oughtn't that be the true goal? The train station bustled with people, which was to be expected, given that despite the darkness of the tunnel it was rush hour. Gula and I made our way up the escalator leading to the above ground part of the train station, as I tugged our suitcase behind us. Cornello had sent word that he'd sent a man named Nichols to pick us up. Once in the better lit above ground, I was struck by the appearence of the people. They had similar brown skin, dark brown hair and purple eyes to my mother. It was irrational of me to freeze; she had been from Liore. Even so I was rooted to the ground. These were my mother's people, my people. And here you are, come to wreak havoc and misery upon their lands. When Gula tugged at my sleeve, I stirred from my reverie and shook my head. I had a job to do. The journey towards the church and headquarters of Father Cornello's Letoism was short. The church was built in a more simplistic version of the neo gothic style, with a gothic silouette and a facade of plain white plaster.”Are we there yet?” Gula asked from the back seat. I couldn't help but smile.”Yes, sweetie. We're here.” Nichols parked the car, stepped out, and opened the trunk. I opened the door to the passenger's seat and stepped outside into the chilly twillight of an early november evening. Song wafted from the windows of the church.”May we see the father at once?” I asked.”No, he's holding a funeral. You can rest in one of the offices until he is finished, if you'd like.””That would be nice. Would you lead the way?” Nichols nodded. The office was plain, having an oak desk with a chair, a vermillion red sofa, a plain birch coffee table and eggshell painted walls with a painting of what I assumed to be a rendition of Leto hung upon one. A window with beige curtains gave a peak of the surrounding neighborhood.”Would you like something to eat or drink?” Nichols asked us. At the mention of eating, Gula perked up.”Eat? Lu, I'm hungry.” I patted his head.”Some sandwiches would be nice. Do you have hot chocolate?” Gula and I both loved chocolate, though he preferred his with more milk. Nichols nodded and left. I took a seat on the sofa and gestured for Gula to sit beside me. Father Cornello was tall with broad shoulders.”Ah, Miss Alighieri. I trust your journey went well?” His smile was wide and charismatic. I didn't see why he bothered. We both knew he was only interested in power.”It went very well, Father. Have there been any problems?””Not at all, Miss Alighieri.” He took a seat in the chair opposite the coffee table.”Whose was the funeral?””Cain Abrahams. He died in an accident, just twenty years old. His fiancée is taking it rather hard.” I nodded. Poor woman. Though it would make good bait. A promised miracle could be very attractive. Oooh, peddling resurrection again. Wasn't Tucker enough? It was a discussion for later though. For now, small talk was in order. ”Is it true?” I turned my head to the woman standing besides me.”Is what true?” I asked in reply.”That the dead can be brought back to life. Is he telling the truth?” No, not as far as I knew.”Yes, I believe so,” I said instead. She smiled at me.”I'm afraid I didn't catch your name,” I continued.”Oh, I'm Rose, Rose Thomas. You?” So this is the woman whose grief you'll exploit.”Solaris Ophidia, at your service.” I gave her a short bow, to which she giggled.”That's quite the name.””My father was eccentric, to say the least.” It was not entierly a lie, though I had chosen my false name by myself. But the less Rose knew about my so-called family, the better.”Well, a pleasure meeting you, Solaris.””Indeed. Would you like to go for a lunch some time?””Yeah, that'd be nice.” Her smile fell.”Hey, we'll get Cain back to you. I promise.” Falsehood-peddler, fidi glosson, one day your poison tongue shall be paid for.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
”What the hell are you doing here?” Two years had passed, but I could still recognize Avaratia's voice in an instant.
”Do you greet all customers in this way? We are in need of a meal, the sign advertised a tonight's special of steak with fries and ratatouille; thus we decided upon this place” I was dodging the actual question, but how to explain? Avaritia would never trust me.
You made sure of that, huh?”
”You know damn well that wasn't what I meant”
”Should we really discuss this in front of these people trying to enjoy their meals?” I looked around the diner. Amongst the crowd, I could see them, Ulchi in the doorway with his arms crossed, Martel at the bar, prepared for a fight while Dolcetto was carrying food. Quite the fall from the elite soldiers they had once been.
You know that's your fault.
No sign of Bido or Roa yet. Avaritia himself stood at a table, flanked by a blonde who looked to be in her early twenties.
”Who are these?” Gula asked me.
”Old acquaintances of mine. See, that's our brother, my twin. Do you remember him?”
”He gave me candy once!” Gula beamed at me. Then he looked at his feet.
”He told me not to tell you” I could not help but chuckle.
”That's okay. I'll get you some candy later.”
”Well then, follow me,” said Avaratia with finality.
We followed him into the kitchen, where Bido and Roa were preparing food.
”So. Why are you really here? And what is up with that trash bag?” Avaritia nodded for us to take a seat at a beat-up old table. I placed the duffle bag and trash bag upon the floor before taking a seat.
”I left. Like you.” I took off my glasses and placed them upon the table. Wearing glasses indoors at night felt ludicrous. Not that it seemed to stop Avaritia.
”Why?”
”Because I do not wish to be a mere weapon serving the man who calls himself our father. I have tired of blood-stained hands.”
The blood still drenches you.
”You, if anyone should understand, Avaritia. I imagine your companions have similar reasoning.”
Ooh equalizing yourself with his companions. Very clever.
”I'm Greed now.”
”Why, was Avaratia too subtle? Are you even trying to hide?” I nodded to the ouroboros clearly visible on the back of his hand. It was frighteningly easy to slip into banter.
”Why is Avaratia subtle?” Gula asked.
”It's Latin for greed like Gula is Latin for Gluttony. We are named for the seven sins, and it appears my dearest twin brother here believes that merely translating his name to Amestrian is a good cover.”
”The seven sins? Why are we named after them?”
”'Cause ol daddy is an asshat”
”Language, Greed” His words may have been accurate, but there was no need to be so crude.
”You kill people! I think that's a bit worse!” Well, he had a point.
”Anyways, what's up with the trash bag?” Greed asked, getting back on track.
”I have a dead pig in it.”
”Human pig or pig-pig? And why?”
”A pig-pig.
Sus scrofa domesticus.
I bought it from a butcher.” I decided not to ask what Greed means by a human pig.
”Why do you know the scientific name for it?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
”Why not?”
”Fair.” Greed paused. ”And why do you have a dead pig in a bag?” he continued.
”Nutritional purposes,” I said, tilting my head to indicate Gula. Greed nodded.
”Well, I'll get you some food and a room to stay in. But I want to talk to you later.”
”I understand. Thank you Greed.”
”So you left dad then.”
You left far too late.
We sat in the cellar, Gula sleeping in a room nearby.
”Yes. I have tired of being a weapon at his disposal.”
Do you think you can just leave it all behind as if your soul is salvageable?
”Why only now? Why not earlier?”
Because you're a coward.
”I...” I paused and considered. ”I never got fully sober, you know? Because when that happened it'd become too much. I would know intrinsically to my bones just how horrible the things I were doing was. So I hid. I hid behind heroin and alcohol, dulled my sense of right and wrong. It was easier. At the same time, I was terrified of the man who calls himself our father. Do you remember when we were thirteen and I disappeared for a week? Before, well. Before.
Don't you hear how hollow your words ring?
Greed paused and considered.
”Yeah. You never told us what happened. So?” I looked down at the wooden table.
”I told him I was done, that I wasn't going to be his weapon. He responded by stabbing me with some sort of dagger. I couldn't move, Greed, couldn't use alchemy. Then he hung me up on the wall, saying that he'd check in a week if I'd changed my mind.”
And you did, didn't you?
”I was severely dehydrated and delirious by the end, so close to the abyss of insanity that I could see to the other side. So, I... well. I became another weapon.”
A nice little excuse, isn't it?
I looked up to Greed's face. He had removed his sunglasses and looked lost in thought.
”I..,” he started, ”For what it's worth I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
”It was not your fault, Greed. I didn't, couldn't, tell anyone about it. Not even mother.” His eyes grew dark at that.
Did you think bringing that up would be a good idea? Poor, poor mother.
”I will never forgive you for that, you know,” he stated after a pause. I knew what he referred to.
”I don't expect you to. In truth, I fear I may be beyond saving. I just wish to do some good yet.”
You will never do anything good.
He swallowed.
”So what's your plan?”
”Short term, lay low for a while until they've given up on finding me. Then, I'm going to turn myself and Gula back to human. After that, well maybe I'll try to bring the man calling himself our father and the President down.”
Do you really think you could do something good?
”Wait, that can be done? Turning a homunculus back?” Greed asked.
”I'm fairly certain, yes. I will use a transmutation to remove the philosopher's stone. It should be expelled, leaving the original
us
behind.”
”Cool. I'm going to make myself immortal.” Greed smiled at me.
”Have fun.” I smiled back.
Gula and I walked down the street. We'd been in town for a couple of days now. I worked at the Devil's Nest as a cleaner, where we also lived. I carried my backpack and the duffel bag. The pig had been eaten up. Gula stopped, his eyes lighting up.
”What is it, Georgie?”
”I smell him! I smell soup!” Soup? What did he ... oh no.
”You smell Superbia? Which direction?” Gula pointed northeast. In the direction of the Devil's Nest. Fuck. I turned sharply southwest, tugging Gula along with me. I wanted to warn Greed, but I couldn't go to the Devil's nest. I kept an eye out for a hotel or phone booth as we headed toward the train station.
”Why are we hurrying?” Gula asked me.
”Superbia will hurt us if he catches us. He's a bad man.”
”Oh. Okay.” Gula didn't understand yet, did he? I hoped he will someday. Up ahead, in the town square adjacent to the station I spotted a phone booth. We made our way to it with hurried steps and went in. I paid, dialled the number to the Devil's Nest, and waited.
”Hi, this is the Devil's Nest, how can we help you?” Martel responded.
”President Selim Bradley is in town. Be careful,” I said, pinching my nose to distort my voice. Then I hung up. Hopefully, no-one would recognize my voice.
”Let's go and get tickets for the train, Georgie.” He nodded and I picked him up, making our way to the train station proper. We would try to catch a train to some small town, then a bus to get into the countryside. After that, I would start in earnest with turning us back into humans.